City of Demons (42 page)

“Eat first,” she said, and sat down heavily beside him.

Vinir nodded. “Certain Blues might sleep away the day in their beds, dreaming of glory, while we Golds labour for the preservation of the Hall,” she said. “Well, at least since noon,” she added with a smile that dimpled her cheeks.

Dorict pulled Marick away to get their food. As Garet followed them with his eyes, he saw that a certain quiet chaos raged in the dining hall. Although the Reds maintained their pride of place at the head table, the lower ranks had abandoned their sections of descending importance to sit in large, mixed groups, eating and talking, mostly at the same time. As he watched, Garet saw a Red, Pratax, come in and signal to one such group. Stuffing the last of the food in their mouths, they picked up their weapons and followed him out of the hall.

“A patrol,” Salick explained, seeing his confusion. “Master Mandarack says that no small patrols can go out anymore.” She leaned against him slightly, and Vinir grinned at her friend and rolled her eyes. Salick glared back but moved slightly away from Garet before continuing. “Large patrols are going out to the Wards, checking each one before moving on.” She slid a hand under the table to touch his. “Another patrol comes along soon after, so that a demon can't do much harm before it's caught.” She paused as the two Blues arrived with trays of food. “The only problem is that it takes so many Banes. That's why Blues and even some Blacks are going out on patrol—even if they can't fight, they can watch so the older Banes aren't ambushed.” She turned to Marick. “And I suppose you want to know what's going on too.”

“No need,” the boy replied airily, waving away her comment. “The cooks told us all that and more.” Dorict nodded, busy at his first meal of the day. Marick pushed over a plate of bread and a bowl of stew across the table to Salick and added, “Old Tarlax and his helpers haven't left the kitchen since last night, but I think they've been trading sweets for information all that time.” He popped a sugar-dusted cookie into his mouth.

Dorict finished his first bowl of stew and took up the conversation for his friend. “Tarlax says that the King has ordered that no Palace guard or Duelist cross the bridges without his permission.” He wiped his mouth and asked Salick, “Did Master Mandarack really use the jewels to drive off the king, or was it Farix doing it before the Master caught him?”

Salick glanced around the nearest tables to make sure their occupants were involved in their own conversations. “Yes, the Master did it,” she answered reluctantly. “He knew that whoever won inside the Hall, the King's men couldn't be allowed to defeat us, nor could the jewels be left anywhere Adrix and Farix could get at them.” She put a piece of bread in her mouth and spoke around it. “He told the other Masters that it was the hardest decision he had ever had to make.” She raked them all with her eyes. “That does not need to be repeated.”

“I don't think anyone at this table would think of doing so, Salick,” Garet said quietly. He touched her hand. Marick and Dorict nodded, and Vinir leaned over and punched her in the ribs.

“Oww, Vinir!” Salick cried out. “That's my injured side!” She rubbed her ribs and glared at her friend.

“Well then, it'll likely be some time before you insult your friends again by showing so much distrust,” Vinir replied calmly.

Marick snickered a bit and even Dorict smiled around a mouthful of cookie. Garet put his hand on Salick's shoulder and gave her a little shake.

“All right! All right!” she said. “I'm sorry, but with all these plots and counterplots, I'm seeing shadows in sunlight.” She lowered her head, picked up her spoon, and ate her stew.

Relict came into the dining room, looking around the tables. Vinir waved at him and the short Master came over.

“Ah, Vinir,” he said, pulling at his beard, “I was looking for you.” His sharp eyes scanned the table. “I was looking for all of you as a matter of fact.” He broke into a wide smile. “And here you are conveniently gathered just for my sake.” Reaching over, he pulled up a chair from another table and sat down near the two youngest Blues.

“First of all, I need Marick and Dorict here to go out on a patrol with my group,” he said, then held up his hand at the Blues' excited reaction. “It may not be anything more than watching our backs while we search the Wards. But we will be crossing the bridge.” His tone turned serious. “We have been searching the Palace-side Wards for the whole day, and no one has tried to stop us,” he explained. “But night is falling, and that will doubtless make things more dangerous.” He turned to his apprentice. “Take them to get their weapons and cloaks please, Vinir.”

The blond girl smiled and winked at Salick and Garet. She led the two Blues out of the hall, Dorict trying to finish his bread on the run.

Relict turned towards the two remaining Banes. “I'm afraid that you two will have something more interesting to do than go on patrol,” he told them. Standing up, he motioned them to do the same. “You won't be able to finish your meal. Master Branet wants to see you immediately.”

Salick had already risen and was tugging on Garet's sleeve to get him to follow. Relict nodded at them and said, “Good luck to both of you. I approve of the Masters' choice for this mission, having had the pleasure of seeing you two work together.” He smiled, the scratches left by the Crawler Demon still visible on the left side of his face. Signalling to more Banes on his way out, he left to organize his patrol.

“And to think that I once thought being a Bane was boring,” Garet said, shaking his head.

Salick laughed. “All of us think that when we're Blacks. With any luck, we'll live long enough to be bored again.” But there was a light in her eyes, and Garet had to agree that he felt more excitement than fear. Very shortly, they stood in front of the Records room door, brushing the crumbs off their vests and sashes before knocking.

A Gold opened the door and led them to the great table where Garet's status as a Blue had been registered before turning and leaving the room. Branet sat behind the desk, a map of the city laid out before him. Pieces of paper lay on top of the map, some with lists of Banes and schedules of patrols, others with notations on supplies, and a few that Garet couldn't decipher from his position across the table. Branet swept a portion of the map clear, revealing the Palace plaza. The semi-circular space had the outline of the Palace in purple ink and three blue dots to signify the Temple complex. A section on the east end was labelled “market” and each Ward gate had its number drawn beside it.

“I hope you are both well-rested after last night's excitement,” Branet said to them. He did not wait for an answer. “The skirmish with the King was not conclusive,” Branet said. He waved them to sit across from him and continued, “He was forced to retreat, but he will not surrender.” He looked at Salick for a moment, and she nodded.

“The Ward Lords are not decided in their support,” he said. “Hallmaster Mandarack's heightened patrols have reassured many that we have no intention of abandoning our duties, but they fear that we cannot deal with this change in the demons, even though they are not sure of what that change is.”

He picked up a list of Banes and studied it. “We don't have enough Banes in the Hall to continuously patrol every Ward,” he told them. “With the King's help, we could have eyes in every part of the city, night and day. But first we must make peace with the Palace.” He looked at them, his mouth set. “That is why you must undertake a dangerous assignment. You two will go and see the King.”

The words dropped into a profound silence; the stacks of papers and bound ledgers seemed to lean towards them, waiting for a reply. At first Garet did not believe his ears. See the King? Any sight of a Bane's sash near the Palace would bring out a mob of Guards and Duelists, competing for the glory of killing them! He looked over at Salick. She was shaking her head, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Master!” she said. “How can you send us there? You know what will happen!”

Branet held up his hand to stop her protest. “I know that it sounds dangerous, even foolhardy, but we believe that you can do it and return safely.” The calmness of his voice contrasted bizarrely with the outrageousness of his suggestion. With a thick finger, the Hallmaster traced the curved wall separating the Wards from the plaza. “All our patrols are shadowed by one or two guards when we patrol the Palace-side Wards. The only way we could get past them to the Palace without bloodshed would be to use the jewels again.” His mouth twisted at the thought. “But that would only increase Trax's suspicions. We must make him understand that the real threat to this city does not come from the Banehall or even,” he added grimly, “from the King.”

Garet nodded. “All the resources of Shirath are needed to counter this new demon, Master,” he said. “I can see that.” He turned to Salick. “Any Bane with sense can see that,” he added.

Salick gave him a wry smile for his compliment. “But is it this new demon, this Caller that Garet spoke of?” she asked, looking at the Red.

“The Hallmaster believes that it is,” Branet replied. “And it explains why my two Golds died so strangely.”

Branet stopped for a minute and his hand clenched into a fist, crumpling the pages he held. He glanced down, opened his fingers and looked up at the two Banes.

“It is a demon the South has not seen in centuries. Heaven knows how they survived it six-hundred years ago!” He dropped the list of Banes on the table. “Without Trax's help, Shirath will become a city of the dead. We must make the King see this.”

“But will the King understand?” Garet asked Branet. “The Banehall hides its knowledge, keeps it like a rich man keeps a treasure,” he explained. The big Bane listened carefully.

“What if the King simply doesn't have enough knowledge to make the right decision?” Garet asked, then stopped. He was sure that he was right, but was a little nervous at criticizing one man of authority to another.

“Trax is no fool, Garet,” Salick said. “He'll guess more than he's told.” She turned to Branet. “What does Hallmaster Mandarack think of this?” she asked.

Master Branet tapped the table between them with one beefy finger.

“The Hallmaster does not agree with this, but he has been overruled by the other Masters.” He broke into a sudden, savage smile. “It has been a long time since we had a Hallmaster who would listen to the other Masters, even if he didn't want to. We agreed on the need to send a message to the King, and, since Mandarack's idea of going by himself is lunacy, you two are going to find a way to deliver it.”

Garet stared at the Master, his thoughts spinning. Branet had still not said how they would even reach the King before being murdered by the Duelists or the King's guards. How could they accomplish what he said Mandarack could not?

Did he expect them to just walk up to the palace door and ask if Trax was receiving guests?

Salick stood up and crossed her arms.

“I know why you chose me, Master, but why Garet?”

There was steel in Salick's tone. She stood across the table from Master Branet, eyes narrowed. Garet wondered what would make her act so defiantly.

Branet tapped the table again, harder. He growled out his answer, “He's a curiosity, an outsider who can present Trax with an unbiased view.” He stood and hit the table again, this time with his fist. “Are you Banes? Do you question a Master's commands? Keep still, learn from your betters and obey, Gold!”

Garet stood up and moved beside Salick. “Like you obeyed Adrix a few days ago?” he asked. Part of him quailed at defying Branet, a man who in size and temperament resembled his father, but, after many so months in this Hall, he was tired of bullies.

“All right, I agree that Trax might want to hear my ‘outsider' viewpoint, even if he doesn't believe it, but that doesn't have anything to do with Salick, does it? Why does she have to risk her life?”

Branet looked angry enough to break the table in half then throttle them both, but a voice from the door stopped him.

“Master Branet, the vote went against me on this, but these Banes answer to me, not to you. Please restrain yourself,” Mandarack said. He stepped into the Records room, a puzzled Master Arict shuffling in behind him, her arms full of scrolls and ledgers.

Branet grumbled back into his chair. “The vote went as it did because there is nothing else to do! We dance on the tip of a claw here, Mandarack. If we are to have a chance against this Caller Demon, we need to make peace with the King first, and remember, you are no stranger to desperate strategies.” He turned to the two young Banes standing between the two Masters.

“There is only one question to answer; will you stand by and let the Banehall fall?”

Garet held up his hand, trying to think it through. Branet was right about one thing, the situation with the King had to be settled first. They couldn't face the demon if the King's sword was at their back. And Trax might listen to him, at least in gratitude for ridding him of Adrix. He could understand that, but, despite what Branet said, there was still one more question to be answered.

“Why Salick? Why would the King listen to her?”

Branet shrugged and looked down at the table. “There's her former status, of course, as the daughter of a ward lord, and there is her...personal history with Trax.”

“My personal history?” Salick asked. The steel in her voice was now ice, and Branet didn't reply.

Mandarack stepped to her side and put his good hand on Salick's shoulder. “I have told the other Masters of the dangers of this idea, and of the disrespect they show a fellow Bane by forcing you to face Trax again.” There was a real anger in his voice.

Branet kept his gaze on the table top.

Salick looked from Mandarack to Branet and then to Garet. Doubt showed in her eyes, but she pressed her lips together and nodded.